


Temporary Bliss

by Katefkndoes



Category: Captain America (2011), Fantastic Four (Movieverse), Iron Man (Movies), Sunshine (2007), The Avengers (2012), The Losers (2010), Thor (2011)
Genre: Crack, F/F, M/M, Multi, Tonyhasissues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katefkndoes/pseuds/Katefkndoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony tries to get over Steve.  Or five people Tony slept with to try and get over Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temporary Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the Capkink meme and apparently because I feel the need to write a lot of people who have Steve's face.
> 
> Kindly beta'd by Sparklyfiend, but feel free to point out any errors.

When Steve broke up with Tony on a rainy Tuesday in early February, he felt like his heart was stuttering to a halt in his chest.  It swept him back to the aching memory of the sinking despair, which had crept over his body, when Stane had pulled the arc reactor out of his chest, left him paralyzed and teetering on the edges of life.

It wasn’t as though the break-up came as a complete shock: it had been brewing for a long time.  Tony had expected Steve to realize he could do a lot better than him for a long time, but when Steve actually said the words it didn’t mean that it wasn’t a surprise.  Tony was used to living day to day, and he supposed that was one of myriad reasons why Steve was finally leaving him – he was _such_ a routine and order man while Tony thrived on chaos.  All of those thoughts didn’t do a thing to distract him from the nauseating pain that swelled through him as the words spilled from Steve’s perpetually pouting lips.

“I think we should…” Steve paused for a moment considering how best to phrase the devastating blow, “in the vernacular, take a break.”  The difference between them was obvious at that moment – Steve remained stoic while he crumbled to the ground.  It didn’t even register to him that Steve couldn’t even end their relationship using his own idiolect, and even if it had, it wouldn’t have cushioned the blow of feeling half his universe crumbling down around his ears.  If he’d been paying attention he might have heard the sadness that crept into the final words – but he didn’t.

Nevertheless, he put on his game face, because that was exactly wat everyone expected Tony Stark to do, even when he was on the verge of falling apart.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said, as quick and brutal as any retaliation could have been.  Steve’s composure faltered for the briefest of seconds, and that gave Tony a spark of happiness even as he was broken down. 

“Well, I’m glad you agree,” Steve replied after a moment, his tone devoid of any emotion.  And yeah, that stung just a little bit more.

“Excellent,” he grinned brightly, pushing up his Aviators to cover the signs of the tears that begged to be spilled at their separation.  Tony Stark did not cry over any man.  “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted.” He added with the same clinical precision he had processed the suggestion in the first place, and clapped his hands together.  “If there’s nothing else,” he didn’t give his companion a chance to reply to his implied question, “you know me, places to go, Colonels to infuriate.”  

Steve shrugged.  “I guess not,” he replied, his tone unsure.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he added, savoring his position of power.  Steve might have been the one to break up with him, but he was not about to give up his dignity. Regardless, he wasn't particularly proud of the pleasure he drew from the fact that his former boyfriend had become the wrong-footed one.

It did little, however, to stop the twisting of the snake-like twisting of disappointment that curled in his gut.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

By the time Tony had finally summoned up the energy to vacate the Avengers tour, (more accurately his workshop), for anything other than – well, avenging – it was a remarkably cold Wednesday in mid-March.  Work could be done from home, and it often was, so it wasn't particularly unusual for him to avoid people for days on end.  One of his greatest strengths was his ability to turn his own pain into creativity.  Well, creativity with a side of reckless self-destruction, but no one was perfect.

His creative spree during his month of self-enforced solitude had been prolific and the investors were practically salivating over his latest set of patents and he figured he had earned himself a little release.  Plus, Steve had taken to chasing around after Natasha like a dog on a very short leash – something he thought he was imagining, until Clint had fired a steady stream of arrows into a Captain America plushie - and that had pushed him past the brink of creativity and into a hedonistic spiral ever further downwards.

Up until that point, he had managed to maintain the illusion that he wasn’t at all wounded by his split from Steve, but as Clint’s anger swelled, so did his own.  It seemed so much more civilized to be angry when he was not alone in the emotion.

In the end, after several days of stewing in his workshop having hit the mechanical engineering equivalent to writers block - Tony had done what he used to do before Steve had walked into his life and marked his soul with the burn of his goodness.  He went off in search of something to numb the ever-present prickle of loneliness.

His relief came in the form of a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue – cheap whiskey burned deeper than the more expensive brands - and the arms of a beautiful, young, golden-haired, graduate called Hayden.

As it turned out the man in question had attended Harvard, graduated in the ninetieth percentile and wasn’t nearly as obtuse as he looked, which was somewhat of a blessing since it was uncommon to find an attractive man with the brains to back it up – himself excluded, of course.  Hayden was tall, with deep blue eyes which were only accentuated by the blue baseball cap that had tamed his mane of blond hair.  Added to all of that, the man had actual, honest-to-God, dimples.

Not a bad distraction at all.

Even in his drunken haze, he was pretty sure there was something almost unsettlingly familiar about the younger man, but he pushed it aside with the fortitude of a man on the edge.  A few drinks and some carefully worded advances were all it took to convince the other man to accompany him back to the mansion.  Sure, in hindsight, they should have used his bedroom, but it was his home and he was done worrying about what anyone else thought about his life choices.

They pushed, pulled and jostled for power, but in the end Hayden relinquished – Tony was Iron Man after all.  Hayden’s body felt strange under his hands, almost too slight despite his height and though he was no slouch, he still seemed small under Tony’s expert touch.  Nevertheless, his kisses were pleasurable and tasted like whiskey tinted with the sweetness of candy – two of Tony’s favorite things.  Every thrust of Hayden’s hips sent tingles down Tony’s spine and the soft hum of the blonde’s voice as he kissed Tony’s neck, vibrated all the way down to his cock.

Hayden groaned underneath him, as he slipped a hand under the waistband of his jeans, and Tony abruptly realized that he hadn’t felt so good in weeks.  Or at least that was until the lights switched on several minutes later.  He guessed that the room already smelt like sex, but evidently that had not deterred the intruder.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?”  Tony muttered, not bothering to look up from Hayden, who bit his lip as Tony continued to rub at his erection despite the disturbance.

“Actually, I can.”  The voice was cold, emotionless, but that didn’t mean that Tony didn’t recognize it immediately, and froze involuntarily.  “I just thought you’d like to know that we have a meeting at o seven hundred tomorrow, and Colonel Fury has ordered all of us to attend.  Everyone includes you, Tony,” Steve practically spat out the final sentence and Tony swallowed.  He was all too aware that the other man was angry, but he didn’t seem nearly as hurt as Tony thought he should be.  It was as though Steve didn’t even care that he had walked in on him performing a lewd act with someone else, like their relationship – or even their friendship – meant nothing to him.

If Steve had been angry and hurt it might have made the debacle worthwhile, might have assisted him in his mission to terminate his investment in Steve:  but snarky anger did not.  Plus, he thought bitterly, as Hayden shifted to get a better look at the intruder, Steve had Natasha to run back to, so he had lost his claim to a righteous anger.

“Is that Captain America?”  Hayden inquired, his head popping up over the top of the sofa, so that he could get a better look at Steve.  And Steve could get a better look at him.  The similarity that had not been obvious to Tony earlier that evening seemed almost undeniably in that moment, and though he did not comment it was obvious that the good Captain saw it straight away.

“That’s classified,” Steve muttered unkindly, turned on his heel, flicked off the light and left them alone once more.

“Not as friendly as I was expecting,” Hayden grumbled dryly as he felt himself fall back to the cushions.  “I guess you never can tell,” he muttered and Tony laughed bitterly.

“I guess you can’t,” he agreed, rather feeling that his moment of escapism was ruined.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

All thoughts of Hayden had been removed from his mind almost as soon as he had called one of the building’s – his – many cars to take the  younger man home.  The endorphin rush that came with a sexual conquest had left him with a fresh perspective on his inventions, and as such, Clint had received new heat-seeking arrows (which, had actually gone a long way to cheer him up), and Stark Industries had received several prototypes, including: a holographic entertainment system even more sophisticated than the one in his lab; a voice activated, semi-sentient coffee machine and an arc-reactor powered car.  And though he had kicked around Howard’s plans, the flying car had been deemed unviable, which was a shame because everyone appreciated Back To The Future.

Several weeks passed rather uneventfully – or, as uneventfully as weeks could pass when you were a part of a superhero boy band – with Tony deliberately evading Steve.  Hell, he’d been so desperate to avoid Steve that he’d even started attending board meetings, which had sparked some concern from Pepper, though he managed to brush her off with some gibberish about needing to channel his energy into something positive.  He doubted she believed him, but she was smart enough to recognize a good thing when she saw it. 

So, his life was relatively dull, up until the Thursday before Easter when he spent most of his day knee-deep in debris, fighting against a seven storey demented Energizer bunny – which that most likely to be Loki’s idea of an early Easter gift.  Tony might have relished the challenge had S.H.I.E.L.D not paired him with Clint, and Steve with Natasha.  He was sure Fury had done that on purpose – that fucker had always hated him. 

Clint had driven him to the very brink of psychosis because each time either Steve or Natasha made a statement over the radio, he could snap out some smart assed remark, usually detailing a deprived sexual act he was sure they were engaged in at that very moment.  Initially, it had been pretty amusing, but it began to grate on him really quickly as the bitterness twisted in his gut.

The thing about spending any time with Clint was that he reminded him constantly that Steve and Natasha were together, a fact which he had done his level best to forget.  Intellectually, he appreciated that Steve had to move on with his life, but did he really have to do it with someone within his team?  He didn't think he was asking too much not to have it thrust in his face.

Plus, Clint still had a bit of a crush on Natasha – regardless of much he vehemently denied that fact – despite their recent break up, which meant that Tony didn’t feel it was advisable to launch into a tirade of insults about their Russian teammate.  But, he guessed since he wasn’t the only one who had been dumped, and people got over such things in their own way, Clint had just as much right to be annoyed by the couple’s blatant flirtations as he did.  Nevertheless, he didn’t particularly appreciate the constant reminder that he wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on the palpable sexual tension between Cap and Widow - which was probably the main reason Tony was so keen to get drunk. 

That said after seven hours of fighting Robo-bunny and four further hours of Clint’s commentary on the status of Steve and Natasha’s relationship during cleanup, Tony was certain the was well within his rights to want to get completely shitfaced.

With the holidays fast approaching, there were a lot more people in town than usual.  Usually, that would have bothered Tony when he was in such a maudlin mood, since he had didn’t enjoy people interrogating him on Iron Man’s latest exploits when he merely wanted to get drunk.  What he was in the mood for was a warm body to share his bed, and the influx of bodies was like a parade of fresh meat sent to tend to that specific need.

The man he spotted was conventionally attractive, but seemed intent on disguising that fact, he was curiously alone and stared into his beer as though it would answer all of his problems.  Tony had been in that situation more than once – he’d been there more than once that month, - and he recognized the look of despair that had crept across the other man's handsome features.  The stranger was not his usual type, he had more hair on his face than he had on his head; the closely shaved head reminded Tony of Rhodey, but the unkempt facial hair suggested that he wasn’t a military man.

In Tony’s mind, all of those things made the man a viable target.

“You look like you could do with some company?”  Tony climbed - already a little tipsy and loose-limbed - onto the seat next to the shaven-headed man, and realized that he wasn’t staring aimlessly into the bottom of his glass, but rather at a notepad full of complex equations.  He also couldn’t help but notice the way that his navy sweater pulled against the curl of his biceps.

“Not unless you can tell me how I can cool the pneumatic-electric switches to absolute zero without compromising the integrity of the thermo-couplings?”  The man replied coolly.  The answer would probably have deterred any other prospective mates, but Tony Stark was an engineering genius - completely incapable of taking a hint, but mostly an engineering genius.

“Well if anyone can, I can,” he said, the arrogance seeping into his tone.  The young man looked up and raised an eyebrow in what Tony took to be recognition.  “Tony Stark,” he could tell by the slight smile on the younger man’s face that an introduction wasn’t necessary, but it seemed appropriate regardless.

“Mace,” he answered, with a nod of his head.

“I have the best workshop in the country three blocks from here – I’m sure between us,” he took a moment to look the other man up and down in an appreciative manner, before concluding his proposition, “we could work out how to solve your little problem.”

Apparently, those were the magic words because the man – Mace, his brain corrected – followed him out of the room as though it was the most natural thing in the world for Tony Stark: Billionaire Genius Playboy (TM) to pick him up in a bar.  Although, given his reputation, he had to admit that Mace probably wasn’t wrong about it being a natural progression of their conversation.

What was unusual for him was to find himself bent over his workbench as Mace thrust into him, rough and unyielding.  Normally, Tony would not have allowed himself to be fucked so hard on a first date, (he might have taken the other person roughly but that was his prerogative).  However, Mace had a way with words, and enough strength to bent Tony to his will, and he had to admit that he found that he rather enjoyed the change of pace.

The next morning, when Steve bought him his usual morning coffee, he found Mace still discussing the idea of a theoretical light-speed drive with Tony, and raised a questioning eyebrow.  It was a facial expression that Tony was fast becoming familiar with.

“Good morning, Tony,” he said, casually, as though there was nothing at all amiss.  “If JARVIS had informed me you had company I would have bought an extra coffee.”  The fact that Steve still didn’t seem to care that he had found yet another partner was yet another nail in the coffin of their once great love.  And _maybe_ Tony had read one too many of Pepper’s sappy romance novels after their break-up because he was beginning to sound like a 50-year-old woman.  However, Steve didn’t seem to notice that Tony was at all bothered, and to make matters worse, he held out his hand towards Mace, who shook it dutifully and smiled easily.  “I’m Steve, it’s nice to meet you,” he said.  If Steve had shown the slightest inclination that he secretly hated Mace, then Tony probably wouldn’t have felt so sick.

“Mace,” he replied with a smile, their eyes met with an almost terrifying intensity, and up until that moment Tony had not realized that they were the same shade of blue.  “Tony was just helping me with some engine designs,” he added, as if he somehow needed an excuse to be there.  And Tony wondered whether the tension between them was obvious even to a relative stranger.

Steve tool a slow inhalation and raised an eyebrow once more, “I’m sure he was.”  Evidently, the smell of motor oil did nothing to disguise the smell of sex.  Steve faltered for the very briefest of seconds and Tony added a point to his tally in the game he was fairly sure the blond had no idea they were supposed to be playing.

Still, rather than adding anything additional, Steve merely nodded in Tony’s direction and shot Mace a final smile before he left the room.  

And damn if that didn’t manage to annoy Tony further.  If he felt so much hurt when he saw Steve with Natasha, why did the blond feel nothing when he saw him with any other man?

Grudgingly, he deducted several points from his score card and added them to Steve’s total.  

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

The thing – because he couldn’t call it a relationship when all it consisted of was sex and mechanics – never really had a chance to get off the ground.  Although, when Mace broke up with him on a Friday in early May, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as Tony felt it should have.  The fellow engineer had been selected to take part in a secret space mission (apparently, those still existed, and were still 'secret' to people who weren’t Tony Stark and couldn’t hack into the NASA’s database), and he didn’t believe it was fair to leave Tony waiting around for him when they barely knew each other.  Privately, Tony imagined that the other man believed that he wouldn’t be returned from the mission, and appreciated the gesture meant to save him any undue heartache.

They’d had a good run, and the more he’d paraded Mace around the Avengers tower, the more satisfaction he felt, even though Steve didn’t seem to care.  The mere fact he had someone around made him feel slightly less pitiful, even though Steve never uttered a word regarding the situation.

Tony wished he had the ability to ignore what was going on around him, as well as Steve did, because he was beginning to think that the stabbing sensation in his chest each time Natasha practically eye-fucked Steve in the middle of a meeting would never go away.  And okay, that might have only ever happened once, but once was enough for the image of it to be burned into Tony retina’s every night since.  Steve had been discussing the finer points of stealth attacks and Natasha looked at him like she was about to dive across the table and fuck him right there.

That was probably the reason he had been so indiscrete with Mace.

Their relationship – thing, he corrected himself – had been filled with sex and had driven him out of his thoughts about Steve, even if it had only been momentarily.  He appreciated Mace, because not only had he been able - at least for a little while - to forget about Steve but because he was a genius in his own right and never judged Tony because he got out of bed in the middle of the night to test one of his latest ideas.  He appreciated that, rather paradoxically, made him sound like a heroine in a bad romance novel and a mad scientist all in one bundle, but he couldn’t really blame the other man for that.

Dispassionately, he reasoned that Steve’s constant presence in the mansion was always going to make him hard to get over, and did his best to dismiss any ridiculous notions of ‘the love of his life’ – damn romance novels.  Plus, Steve was Captain America, pretty much a paragon of perfection, and so he was obviously going to be hard to forget about – and that had nothing to do with Tony still being in love with him.

After Mace’s departure, Tony might have been content to wallow in his loneliness for a while, but Johnny Storm seemed to have other ideas.  Hell, Mace had barely blasted off before the young superhero made his intentions perfectly clear.  Johnny came to him with all the swagger of a rockstar and though he had not paid him much attention prior to that day, Tony had to admit that Johnny was pretty attractive.

“You know they tell me, I look a lot like him,” Johnny smiled, running a hand down his tight fitting suit.  Had the likeness not been pointed out so brazenly, Tony wondered whether he would have noticed, but as soon as it was, he could not help but seen the resemblance.  Even though, his face was younger, fresher looking, and his hair was darker, the likeness was undeniable.

“Like who?”  Tony found himself asking, as though he required any confirmation.

“Like Steve,” Johnny replied casually stepping a little closer to him.  Personally, Tony thought Johnny looked more like Mace than Steve, but when he actually came to consider it, they all kind of looked the same, even Hayden, which spoke volumes for his sensibilities – or rather, the lack thereof.

“You’re a little young,” he answered, swallowing heavily, feeling the temperature of the room rise slightly, and sensing that it was down to Johnny, who had a particular talent for using his mutations to his advantage.  He shook his head, trying to shake away the somewhat lecherous thoughts which had swirled to the front of his mind.  It was one thing for him to appreciate the youthful flesh of a younger body – and he often did – but Johnny was Sue’s little brother and that made him seem so much younger than he actually was.

“I’m at my sexual peak,” he confirmed, and Tony knew enough on the subject to know that he was correct.  He felt a guilty wave of pleasure swell through him as Johnny stepped closer still, and mentally berated himself.  “And Sue’s always saying how amazing it is to screw a genius,” he added, dropping his voice an octave or so.  Although Johnny’s intention was to force Tony into action, he had inadvertently given the older man an opportunity to change the subject, and for the good of his sanity, Tony took it with surprising speed.

“I hear Reed’s free on Tuesdays,” he replied, and Johnny arched an amused eyebrow, unfazed.

“Cute,” he smiled, stepping a little closer, and Tony rather thought he should have been the one in charge of this particular conversation, if only because he was the oldest.  And that thought made him feel like he was a teenager back in MIT with all his classmates ordering him around like he was an idiot because he hadn’t hit his growth spurt.  Bitterly, he realized that he never had hit his growth spurt and was momentarily distracted from Johnny, until the man in question cleared his throat.

“Usually, people call me an ass,” he replied coolly, unwilling to give into the charms of the barely legal, genetically enhanced, horny man-child.  Admittedly, it wasn’t Johnny’s fault that he was genetically-altered and it wasn’t like he could help how old he was, but nevertheless, it reflected on how willing Tony was to sleep with him.

“You’ve got a great ass," Johnny took one final step closer to him, pressing the length of their bodies together and completely violating his personal space.  Tony tried to push aside any pleasure he drew from the touch.  

“I’ve been told its one of my best features,” Tony said, trying for casual, as though it was a perfectly normal thing for one superhero to say to another. 

“I’d love to test that theory,” Johnny countered quickly, drawing a hand around Tony’s back to cup his left ass cheek playfully, a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t,” Tony replied, squirming slightly as Johnny’s radiant warmth swelled around them.

“You’re no fun,” Johnny sighed, withdrawing his hand and taking a step back.

Logically, Tony appreciated that he should have been glad that the younger man was stepping down; after all he didn’t particularly want to sleep with Johnny.  However, as soon as Johnny’s ambient heat disappeared, he realized just how much he’d been enjoying it.  And, well, it wouldn’t exactly hurt anyone, would it?  He’d never been all that close to Sue and while that wasn’t exactly a justification for his sudden interest in the younger man, it was about as close to one as he was going to get.

“I respectfully disagree,” he tried to sink to his knees in an attempt to be both seductive and graceful.  However, the loud click in his knee caused him some pain and he groaned slightly – he was getting too old for dishing out blowjobs to random men.

“Easy there, grandpa,” Johnny laughed, a wicked glint in his eye.   _Oh to be young again_ , Tony mused silently.

“Are you aware what I’m about to do?”  He asked, curving his eyebrow, before sighing and sending a flurry of hot air towards Johnny’s crotch.  “Have you not _heard_ of Tony Stark’s legendary blow jobs?”  He enquired.  He meant it as a joke, but Johnny didn’t seem to find it all that amusing, and Tony smirked in the feeling of sure satisfaction that the younger man was trying to control the interest he held in the conversation.  “I tried to get that trademarked, but Pepper felt it didn’t gel with the company image,” he added, pressing his advantage.

“Uh, okay,” Johnny muttered, his smug exterior crumbling.  Tony Stark 1, Johnny Storm 0.

“You’re just _agreeing_ to getting sucked off by me?”  Tony said in mock offense, but he didn’t give his fellow hero a chance to reply.  “No begging?  Not pleading? No promises of your first born?  Really Johnny, I’m getting a little disappointed here,” he leant back on his haunches, (ignoring his knee’s complaints), and removed the warmth his breath had been sending onto Johnny’s crotch.

The younger man blinked several times, his brain obviously in catch-up mode, before he managed to speak.  “Just to check, this is actually happening, right?”  Johnny waved his hands in a desperate manner, and suppressed his laugh.

“For someone who practically threw himself at me less than a minute ago, you don’t seem all that impressed – I’d almost say you seem reticent.  It’s fine, you can turn me and my mouth down, I understand – no means no,” he rambled.  He’d long since learned that most people couldn’t follow his train of thought at the best of times, and as such he realized that his rambles were conducive to winning any argument.

“Oh hell no,” Johnny pushed his hands into Tony’s hair and forced him towards his crotch.

“Oh, that’s more like it…” he pulled back, teasing.  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?” 

Johnny blinked sheepishly.  Tony couldn’t help but laugh at that, it was pretty amusing how easy it was to wind the younger man up when getting head was a possibility.  “Sorry,” he murmured, but didn’t remove his hands from Tony’s hair.

“I’m in the driving seat of this orgasm, thank you,” he replied and Johnny bit down on his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, as Tony teased him out of his pants.  The young blond moaned, the sound low in his throat, as Tony took him into his mouth, and it was a sound that only managed to further convince Tony that he was the master of fellatio.

And that was exactly how Steve found them several minutes later.

“Johnny!” Steve sounded more than a little irate.  A few months prior to that night, Tony would have done anything to have Steve not be mad at him.  But Tony had spent so long resenting Steve with little reaction, that he was relieved that there was a point he could push Steve to, where he was still mad.  “You couldn’t even leave Johnny alone?!” he snapped, as Tony let the younger man fall from his lips.  A groan of annoyance died on Johnny’s lips under Steve’s severe glare, and only caused Tony to smirk up at the big blond.

“I don’t see what it has to do with you,” he answered casually, playing his upper hand, and feeling the spread of happiness run through his veins as Steve grew red with anger.

“He’s Sue’s little brother,” Steve replied through gritted teeth, and Tony felt more than saw Johnny square his shoulder in irritation.

“I’m a grown man,” he butted into the conversation, but didn’t bother to try and cover himself up.  Then again, Tony reasoned, Johnny hardly had anything to be ashamed of – even in front of Steve.

“Yeah, sure Johnny,” Steve replied harshly, and folded his arms across his expensive chest.

“In my defense,” Tony raised his hand and pointed at Johnny, “he asked for it.”  It was a childish retort and it didn’t seem to do anything to disarm Steve.

“That’s true - I did,” Johnny replied easily, a smirk toying at the corners of his lips and the cocky persona pulled back around him like a protective shield.

“Don’t encourage him,” Steve muttered, evidently not at all impressed by their antics, which was a fact which only caused the satisfaction to swell within Tony.

“You really _should_ get that trademarked,” Johnny commented, which only managed to make Tony feel even more smug, as Steve looked at him in confusion.

“I might move back to S.H.I.E.L.D: it was so nice being able to get a cup of coffee without walking in on a lewd sexual act,” Steve sighed, clearly frustrated with them.  The day was really turned out in Tony’s favor because the conversation had definitely given him an additional point in his constant battle with Steve.

“Was that deliberately 1940’s because I _know_ you’re not that innocent…” he replied easily, and Steve turned to leave, “and I’m sure I’m not that lewd.”  He added to the Captain’s retreating form.

“You kinda are," Johnny smirked, and Tony nodded resignedly.

“Agreed,” he answered finally.  “Now, where were we?”  Tony smirked, before he got back to blowing the younger man's mind – amongst other things.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

Steve had avoided him for three straight days after the incident with Johnny, and Tony was beginning to think that the Captain actually had moved into the SHIELD headquarters since he hadn’t seen him at all.  However, he finally bumped into Steve at the gym – sweat dripping down his perfect form – and instantly wished that he hadn’t.

There was something awful about seeing him disheveled, raw and effectively pinning Natasha to the mat as though she was a rag doll.  Steve was sweating profusely and Widow actually giggled underneath his impressive chest.  Tony stared at them for what must have been three solid moments before his brain engaged and he left them in peace.

Had Tony walked in on any of his other ex-partners looking a little too comfortable with someone else, he would have believed it to be a set-up, but Steve had more class than all of them put together.  Even so, he still grudgingly gave Steve an honorary point – even though he wasn’t sure who was winning their little battle anymore.

To make matters worse, Clint had walked into the gym just as he was leaving, and Tony knew the archer well enough to know that wasn’t going to end well.  He’d spent two weeks trying to convince Clint that it wasn’t the best idea to shoot their Captain in the back and hadn’t felt at all bad when the archer took it upon himself to face Steve in the training ring instead – not even when it ended with Clint limping off to his room tailed by a very apologetic Steve.

Admittedly, it was not a high point in his life, but at least he’d saved Steve from getting shot in the back, he couldn’t be responsible for Clint’s self-preservation as well.

Four days after that, on an unseasonably cold Saturday in mid-June, Jensen walked into Tony’s life and didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving it at any time soon.  The blond (and so what if there was a pattern forming in the people Tony befriended - he had far bigger sins to his name than ‘having a type’) was a certified genius, and also the only person Tony had ever met who was even close to keeping up with him as far as computer programming was concerned.  Sure, Mace was also incredibly intelligent but his primary focus was on engineering and not computers, and so as far as programming went, he was more ‘high-functioning’ than anything near ‘genius’, unlike Jensen and Tony.

In fact, Jensen was so smart that he made Tony feel like he was losing brain cells every moment he sent with him, because it was so unusual for anyone to understand how fast his brain moved, let alone offer him advice on improving his ideas.  Fortunately, Jensen was nowhere near as good as dealing with other people as Tony was – especially not, as it turned out, Steve.

“Military man?”  Steve asked when he walked in on Jensen kissing Tony roughly in the middle of his workshop.  The blond, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed which was more than Tony managed.

“Corporal Jake Jensen,” Jensen stepped back from Tony and proffered his hand to the larger blond, with a cocksure smile.

“ _Captain_ Steven Rogers,” he introduced himself.  Tony couldn’t help but notice that there was a tone to Steve’s voice that wasn’t the least bit inviting, but if Jensen noticed it he seemed content to ignore it.  Tony was struck by how awkward the situation had suddenly become; the tension was palpable even if Jensen couldn’t sense it.  Tony knew that Steve did not appreciate being referred to either Captain or Steve, and almost reflexively corrected anyone who called him either, except for when he had really taken a dislike to them.  

So it was evident to Tony just how much Steve must have disliked something about Jensen if he was introducing himself as Captain Steven Rogers.

Hell, Christine Everhart was the only person Steve had ever inflicted that one on, (and Tony was relatively sure that was only because the Captain had was aware of her prior transgressions with him).  She had been forced to call him Captain Rogers throughout his Vanity Fair interview, which Tony had found hilarious at the time, but seeing things from Jensen’s point of view made him cringe a little at the memory.

“Really?”  Jensen seemed completely oblivious to the tension, and began to bounce with excitement as he looked the other man up and down.  “I’ve gotta say I expected you to be – well older for one, taller for another… maybe a little just…” he waved his hands as he struggled for the right word, “… you know, bigger.”  Steve waved a hand up and down against himself before adding, “you’re probably not that much taller than me.”  He said matter-of-factly, stuck out his chest and lifted his chin, as if to emphasize his point.

“You always keep the nicest company, Tony,” Steve commented, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, before echoing Jensen’s earlier motion and looking his fellow blond up and down.  He arched a silent eyebrow before shaking his head and walking away.

“My hair’s better, right?”  Jensen asked after a beat, sounding a little deflated.

“Maybe you should leave Jensen,” Tony sighed, equally deflated.  For some reason, he felt as though he had just lost an argument he wasn’t even aware he was having; which meant Steve had definitely earned several points.  And that made Tony feel completely miserable.

“Did I just get cock-blocked by Captain America?”  Jensen asked after a long moment, and Tony was reminded just how socially awkward the other man could be.  “Seriously, I did just get cock-blocked by Captain America – I mean I didn’t get an orgasm… but Captain America,” he almost sighed.  Jensen, Tony decided, was certainly a unique individual – and by unique, he meant quite possibly slightly emotionally retarded… in the nicest way possible, of course.

“Trust me, it gets old,” Tony sighed, sitting down to work on his new armor.  Jensen looked at him for the longest moment, and Tony was struck by just how blue his eyes were.

“You know, I’m sure I could still help you with that – even if you don’t want to… well…” he sighed, and looked a lot younger than he had any right to at twenty-nine.

“Sure,” Tony replied and Jensen grinned excitedly.

“Cool,” Jensen grinned, before joining him at his desk and began babbling about all the software upgrades. 

And Tony was reminded exactly why he liked Jensen in the first place.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

For most people, Sunday was considered a day of rest, but Tony had never been on to conform to social norms and as far as he was concerned it was just a viable day for endeavors as any other.  The July heat was what could only be described as constricting and since Jensen had been called away by his Colonel, Tony had found his workshop increasingly boring.  Having become so accustomed to having someone around, JARVIS’s almost mocking presence - because only _Tony_ would build a sarcastic AI - was becoming increasing draining.

Had he been thinking about it logically, he would have realized that his need for human company stemmed from Steve’s once constant presence in his life, but when it came to his personal life he rarely did think with any degree of logic.  He guessed he could have sought out the company of the other Avengers, but Widow and Steve were likely to be indisposed of, Clint was giving Bruce and run on being the most miserable man in New York and Thor had – in his words – taken leave of the Midgardian realm.

He guessed he could have called on one of the girls, even if Pepper had been unwilling to tend to him, he was certain that Darcy could be persuaded by some beautifully colored drinks.  But the truth was that he wasn’t particularly in the mood for any idle conversation, and the girls would probably have broached the subject of Steve – and he had no desire to talk about him.  What he _did_ desire was to get out-of-his-mind drunk, which was how he found himself at a bar in the middle of Boston.

Boston had been his city of choice, because he still had fond memories of the city from his time spent at MIT, and though he had not been legally old enough to purchase alcohol, there had been plenty of bars willing to look the other way for a small fee.  That was pretty lucky for Tony, really, because there would simply have been no other way that Tony would have gotten served.  Pepper might have suggested, in one of her darker moods, that had he not become so accustomed to the vices of alcohol in his youth that he might have grown into a better man, but he tended to force that notion from his head.  More often than not with more alcohol.

So, he had jumped on a plane and travelled to one of his former haunts, and though over twenty years had passed the décor had barely changed.  He smiled to himself as the past washed over him, and headed straight over to the bar to begin his evening of drinking.

And that was how he had found Colin, the delightfully attractive man who had woken up in his bed the following morning.  There was something eerily familiar about the larger man, just as there had been with all his other conquests of late, but Tony refused to allow himself to admit _exactly_ what had attracted him to Colin.

“How the fuck did I end up in your bed?”  Colin groaned, squinting at him in contempt.  Not the most auspicious start to the morning, but Tony had suffered worse.

“I’d have thought the question should have been – _how the fuck did I end up in New York_ – but I’m not going to argue,” Tony shot back, doubting very much whether his companion remembered the younger back to New York in his private plane, even though he had been the one to suggest it.  He also doubted whether Colin remembered his admission that, despite his many conquests, he had not been a member of the mile-high club – a fact that Tony had quickly rectified.

Colin looked around the room for a moment, in disbelief.  “Did you drug me?” He asked, finally, with no small amount of suspicion.

“I resent that suggestion,” Tony muttered and Colin rolled his eyes, before realizing just how hungover he was and expelling a soft whimper of pain as Tony explained what had happened.  “The conversation went thus: _you’re not my type_ , –drink – _you’re not my type_ , – drink – _you’re not my type_ , – drink – _you’re not my type,_ – drink … et cetera, et cetera, followed by ‘ _let’s go back to your house’_ , which led to ‘ _Oh! I appear to be in you!’_ ” Tony affected a drunken slur for Colin and finished his explanation casually.  And though it was not particularly kind of him, he couldn’t help but enjoy the other man squirming uncomfortably in the bed next to him.  Indeed, with reflection, it was times such as those, when Tony was forced to admit that he was rather a callous bastard.

“I’m fairly sure I didn’t say that,” Colin replied indignantly, referring to the final line.

“I may have adlibbed,” Tony admitted glibly.

“I hate you,” his companion muttered into the pillow, and Tony couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s not what you were screaming last night,” he retorted.  There was something kind of appealing about the banter he shared with Colin, but he was fair certain that it would not end in a round of morning sex – which was a pity.

“Whatever, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t screaming either,” Colin replied before sitting up in bed.  He took a sharp intake of breath as the inevitable headache hit him, and the alcohol swirled in his belly.  Tony grinned across at him obnoxiously, being all too familiar with the effects of alcohol intoxication, and decided it was only right to make him suffer.

“JARVIS, I believe Colin would like to see the video,” Tony raised his voice and Colin looked momentarily confused.

“Certainly, Sir,” the AI answered and Colin jumped slightly, evidently unaware of the artificial intelligence.  Tony couldn’t help but smirk at that reaction.  His amusement was only added to when a television began to rise out of the bedstead and the other man’s eyes went wide.

“On second thoughts, I think he’s changed his mind,” he said.

“Right you are, Sir,” the disembodied voice answered him, and though Colin show Tony a confused look, he didn’t ask for an explanation.  However, Colin did noticeably relax, even if he didn’t reply, and Tony took that as a sign to continue. 

“Do you want breakfast?”  Tony asked, but didn’t wait for an answer.  “I could eat breakfast, I can get the robots to make us breakfast – JARVIS -” Tony started, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by Colin.

“How is that even a sentence?”  Colin groaned, sounding somewhat less intelligent that Tony was accustomed to.  “And who the hell is JARVIS?”

“Well, actually, I’m fairly sure it was at least two sentences,” he grinned, “And JARVIS is…” he added before they were rudely interrupted. 

“Tony, are you decent?  I need to…” the sentence died on the intruder’s lips.  Tragically, Steve didn’t wait for an answer either and stopped abruptly on his course towards the bed when he realized that Tony was not alone.  Colin groaned again, louder than before, and tried to hide his face in the pillow he had been clutching.

“When you ask that, do you _ever_ pause before you enter – just so I know?”  Tony enquired, arching a mischievous eyebrow.

“Tony, I…” Steve started, a faint blush covering his cheeks, but Tony was all too aware that it was more from annoyance than out of embarrassment.

“Do you?  I’d really like to know,” he continued his tirade, hoping to get a reaction out of the good Captain, which was precisely what he succeeded in doing.

“No, actually I’m _not_ sorry -” Steve said, at the exact same time that Tony decided to answer his original question.

“For the record, I _am_ busy and I’m _never_ decent –“

“This really isn’t what it looks like,” Colin chimed in over the two other men’s battle of words.

“Oh, it _really_ is,” Tony replied without hesitation, just as Steve told him to stay out of it.

“I mean, I’m not even really gay,” Colin added, paying no attention to either of them.  Tony had to admit that he was rather attracted to Colin’s stubborn streak, and while he probably shouldn’t have found any amusement in his predicament he couldn’t stifle a snigger.

Steve, however, did not look at all impressed.  In fact, he took a lingering look at them before looking at the tangled covers before rolling his eyes.  “So, I see,” he said curtly.  Colin shifted away from Tony and tried in vain to cover himself up a bit more, but the action only caused him to expose more of his face as the pillow fell from his grasp.  Steve looked at him, before taking a sharp breath, obviously noticing the similarity between himself and the man who shared Tony’s bed.  “Oh, for God’s sake, Tony,” he muttered in contempt, but Tony brushed it off.

“Out of interest, what does it take to make you really curse?  What would I have to do to make you say _fuck_?”  Tony curled his tongue over the final word, despite the fact that he was all too aware that his not-so-hidden secret had been discovered.  He figured that the best response was to do what he did best, what he always did in such situations, and deflect the conversation.

“We’re not having this discussion,” Steve replied firmly, “call me when you’ve got some pants on.”  He added, before he turned on his heels and left the room.

“I guess that means we’ve got time for round two?”  Tony tried hopefully, turning to find Colin shifting beside him, in an attempt to de-tangle himself from the bed’s silk sheets.  “Guess not,” he shrugged.

“Never call me again,” Colin replied, before falling out of the bed with, yet another, groan, and began ferreting around on the floor in search of his jeans.

“I think you’ll find, I never called you in the first place,” Tony replied, but made no attempt to aid the other man in his hunt for his pants.

“Get fucked,” Colin snapped from somewhere at the foot of the bed, which gave Tony just the opening he had been hoping for – even if he was rather surprised that the other man had left it open for him.

“I already did, sweetheart,” he said, casually.  Having a man skip out on him was hardly an unfamiliar occurrence.

“Urgh,” Colin groaned as he finally located his pants, and pulled them on.

“I’ll have my pilot take you back to Boston,” he said, emotionlessly, which caused Colin to pause and turn to look at him.  He blinked several times, and opened his mouth a couple before he finally managed to reply.

“You’re weren’t kidding about being in New York?”  If Tony was not very much mistaken, then Colin’s voice was a mite higher than it was normally, but he shook his head in a confirmation.  “How the fuck did I manage to forget that?”  Colin added, curiously amused.

“You had a lot to drink,” Tony supplied, helpfully.

“Never again,” Colin replied, but then shrugged when Tony raised an eyebrow, “at least not today.”  He grinned, and Tony couldn’t deny the resemblance between that expression and Steve’s.  “Thanks, anyway… Uh, I’m not much for the morning after,” he said, awkwardly, but Tony laughed.

“You‘re not the only one,” he agreed, and Colin nodded.  “There’ll be a driver waiting for you downstairs,” he confirmed and Tony shot him a grateful not before clumsily retreating across the room.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

“Can you stop cock blocking me?”  Tony snapped at Steve a couple of hours after Colin had made his hasty exit.  The big blond looked up over the edge of his paper – because apparently he was the only person left in the world that actually read a paper rather than got it sent to his smart phone or read it on the internet.   _One big walking, talking Super-cliché_ , Tony thought as Steve raised a vaguely amused eyebrow.

“Maybe you should stop putting your cock where I can block it,” he said curtly.  Tony blinked several times, before noting, distractedly, that the coffee machine flashing out a warning in binary across its LCD screen.  A fact that concerned him for two reasons: firstly, he hadn’t ever programmed his coffee machine in binary and, secondly, it appeared to be instructing him to shut the fuck up.  He couldn’t help but think it a little unfair that _even_ the kitchen appliances were siding with Steve.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Tony finally replied, after a moment’s pause, irrationally annoyed at both the coffee maker and Steve’s composure.

“It sounded like something you’d say,” Steve shrugged him off and his nonchalance in the matter only served to make Tony even more annoyed.  Especially because he knew that Steve’s reasoning was accurate.

“I –“ he clamped his mouth shut.  He wanted to ask how Steve could remain so calm but he knew that would only show a weakness of character on his part and the last thing he wanted was to give Steve more leverage over his emotions.  “I don’t understand why you were so angry earlier,” he figured if he couldn’t ask directly, then he could certainly try to ascertain what had got Steve so hot under the collar only a few hours before, so that he might use it to his advantage at a later date.  One of Tony’s least endearing habits was that once he had found a sore spot he liked to pick at it until it bled.

“Really?”  Steve’s voice hitched slightly, and he carefully folded up his paper without removing his inexplicably blue eyes from Tony.  Even though Tony had seen pictures and knew that those eyes had been exactly the same before the serum but that didn’t stop him from believing that they were somehow enhanced.

“Well, you were the one who broke up with me,” he said after a moment.  He could appreciate that it wasn’t the most mature direction to take this conversation in, but it had been rolling around his head for several months and he felt it needed saying.  The thing about Steve was that he had an uncanny ability of driving Tony insane, because of his lack of reaction to even his most outrageous stunts, and as such Tony had been forced to act the child.

“What are you, twelve?”  Steve’s eyebrows knitted together in disbelief.  Tony shrugged in response, not having any specific defense – which was pretty much a first for him.  “Firstly, I said we should take a break, you were the one who never bothered to end the break.  Secondly, I think I’m entitled to be jealous when you’re wandering around _fucking_ everyone who bares the slightest resemblance to me.”  Tony blinked several times.  Obviously Steve was not above mentioning his rather pathetic attempts to get over him.  Though, Tony had to admit that he would have been pretty pissed had Steve had been screwing around with everyone who bore any resemblance to him.  But on the upside, at least he had finally made Steve curse and so he mentally added another point to his tally.

“Seriously, did they clone you or something?  It’s more or less statistically impossible for me to have met so many people with the same face,” he commented, before realizing that he was actually talking.  Although, he guessed if any part of his thought process had to have been voiced out loud that was probably the best bit.

“Not the point, Tony.  Focus,” Steve chastised him, his voice filled with Captain America’s authority.

“Right, sorry,” Tony replied, and joined his lover – _friend_ , he corrected himself – at the kitchen table.

“That’s it?”  Steve did not sound at all amused, which only caused Tony to become even more irritated.

“What do you want me to say?”  He said, after taking a few moments to calm himself.  He was never good at relationships, and apparently he wasn’t all that great at break-ups either.

“Oh for God’s sake, Tony,” Steve fell back on his usual retort with no small degree of frustration.

“You… you don’t get to be all righteous and offended when you’ve been flaunting your affair with Natasha in everyone’s face,” Tony replied, harshly.  And maybe it sounded a little more bitter than he had anticipated, but it had been playing on his – and Clint’s – mind for weeks and it had yet to be mentioned.  Plus, he was in the mood to try and draw a rise from Steve – so far, he was succeeding – and it seemed only appropriate.

“I…” Steve sighed and dragged a large hand across his jaw.  “You’ve been talking to Clint again, haven’t you?”  It didn’t sound like an accusation, but Tony knew it to be one, because _everyone_ knew that Clint wasn’t exactly handling his break-up from Natasha in an emotionally mature manner.  Then again, neither was Tony, so he was in no place to judge.

“It’s not my fault, we work together – it’s something to chat about around the water cooler,” Tony justified his interest, but he rather felt as though he was losing the argument.

“The Quinjet doesn’t have a water cooler,” Steve supplied, somewhat abruptly.  And yeah, Tony was definitely on the verge of losing this argument.

“Not the point,” he said, before he recognized the look of guilt that had spread across the Captain’s handsome features.  It was a look that Tony recognized from very early on in their own relationship, when they had been caught in the act by Bruce and had been forced to own up to their indiscretions.  “In fact, the point is – you’re sleeping with Natasha!”  He raised his voice at the end of it, so that he was almost yelling and Steve opened his mouth a few times but could not offer a denial.  “You’re _actually_ sleeping with Widow?  As in Clint _wasn’t_ imagining it?”  Up until that moment, at least part of Tony had still believed that both he and Clint had been mistaken in their assumption that their fellow superheroes – and ex-lovers – were sleeping together.  However, the look that Steve shot him and his inability to deny the accusation had all but confirmed their beliefs to be accurate.

“Tony,” Steve sighed, and Tony shook his head.  This was not the time for emotions; this was the time for deflection.  And even though he was mindful that Steve was acutely aware of that particular character flaw, Tony could not help but conform to his expectation.    Tony stood up abruptly, causing his chair to fall back with a loud clatter.  He paused awkwardly, waiting for Steve to comment on his outburst – but he didn’t.

“Seriously, ignoring everything else here: man to man, is she good?”  He didn’t even take a breath before he continued.  “Stupid question, of course she’s good – just look at how bendy she is.” Tony tried to demonstrate a move he’d seen Natasha do earlier in the week, but as he moved there was an ominous crack and a spark of searing pain shot through his back.  “Son of a bitch,” he swore as he collapsed.

“I think I’ve said all I have to say here,” Steve replied, standing up and pushing his own chair under the table as well as retrieving Tony’s from the floor before he turned towards the door.

“You’re not even going to help me up?”  Tony asked, somewhat desperately, as Steve walked out of the room.

“No, you kinda deserved that,” he replied, with a slight smile as he left Tony lying on the floor. 

“Chivalry is dead!” Tony shouted as Steve’s retreating frame, before wincing as his shoulder blades throbbed in protest.

For a moment he wondered whether he could convince the coffee maker to send word for someone to help him, because JARVIS – who had probably recorded the whole incident – was unlikely to be able to offer anything other than a sarcastic retort.  However, after several moments pause, he swore under his breath, deciding he could cope without machines – for now, and pulled himself up to sit on the chair Steve had just vacated.

“Perfect,” he huffed to himself.

“Hardly,” JARVIS replied, and Tony sighed heavily, before resting his head in his arms and deciding it was better for him to ignore the world.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

Later that day, when the Doctor who Pepper had called, had dosed him up with enough painkillers to incapacitate a small horse; Tony was feeling a little better about himself, even if he had been expressly told to avoid any form of physical activity.  At the time Tony had muttered some comment to Pepper about cancelling the Russian acrobat, but the physician had looked less than impressed.

“Avengers assemble…” Steve’s voice came through his self-created Avengers pin, and Tony shifted in bed, despite the pain.  “Not you, Tony,” Steve added, as though he knew exactly what Tony was planning.  Steve was annoyingly good at reading people; Tony ignored the possibility that he was annoyingly easy to read when it came to Steve.   He muttered to himself as he settled back into his bed, infuriated that no-one ever believed him when he said that the armor coped with all the physical lifting.  If only he could figure out a way to control the armor from the outside, then Tony wouldn’t even need to be in there.

“How come he gets out of it?”  Clint sounded vaguely irritated, and although Tony had no idea why – since the archer had very little else to do but fight for his country – he suspected it was likely to be because his absence meant that Clint would have to deal with Steve and Natasha’s flirtations alone.

It was a depressing thought.

“Because he screwed up his back,” Natasha answered abruptly.  Tony had a vision of her laughing as Steve relayed the story of his unfortunate accident and promptly threw his communicator across the room in disgust.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

Ringing Steve in the middle of the night had seemed like a great idea as Tony dialed the number, although as soon as he answered, Tony wasn’t exactly certain why that had been the case.  Especially since, he had been unable to form any words and had, instead, settled for making a series of grunts and breathing heavily down into the receiver.  It might have been funny, if it wasn’t so damn cliché.

“What do you want, Tony?”  The good Captain groaned after about a minute, his voice filled with weariness, but devoid of any resentment.

“Seriously Steve, you’re fucking Natasha?”  He asked after a pause, as though he needed any further confirmation of the fact.  The image of the two of them together had been plaguing him all day – her writhing on top of him; Steve below, pupils blown wide with lust – and the pain killers which had clouded his mind and numbed his senses had done absolutely nothing to remove it.

“We _were_ consoling each other on our mutual break-ups,” Steve replied, with a surprising pragmatism given the early hour.  But the only thing that mattered to Tony was the use of the past tense.

“Consoling her with your penis?”  Tony asked, crassly lowering the tone with a gleeful smirk.

“Not the point, Tony,” Steve said softly, and if Tony was not very much mistaken (which was not beyond the realms of possibility, because whatever narcotics he had been prescribed were unbelievably strong; Tony suspected the Doctor had only prescribed them at such a high strength because he had made a wise crack about his mother), then Steve sounded a little sullen.

“I bet it was the point…” he replied, and Steve let out a longsuffering sigh.  “I think I’ve forgotten what the point is,” he conceded, resignedly.

“Some may say you never knew what it was in the first place,” Steve commented in return, but it was far from harsh, in fact, Tony felt it might even have been affectionate.

“I’ve got to stop you from speaking to Pepper,” Tony replied.  There had been a time, when Steve had first been defrosted, when he would never have dared to make such a patently sarcastic comment and Tony missed those days.

“Is there going to be a purpose to this call?”  Steve asked.  “I’m merely curious because its three thirty and I got my ass handed to me by a giant squid earlier today and could be asleep right now.”  Sarcasm, it seemed, had become Steve’s default method of communication when he was half-asleep.

“Should have let me come,” Tony replied, still annoyed that he had not been included in their most recent expedition.  Just because he was in pain didn’t mean that he was incapable.

“Tony…” Steve replied, urging him to answer the previous question with yet another sigh.

“I’m bored… and in bed,” he replied.  Why he felt the need to point out that he was in bed in the middle of the night he was not sure, but he was pretty sure that it was the drugs talking.

“I’m not having phone sex with you,” Steve said flatly.

“See,” Tony smiled, “you don’t know me as well as you think you do.  I just wanted some company… not necessarily your penis,” he winced as soon as he said it, and Steve sighed.

“Tony,” he said softly chastising him.

“I have missed your witty reportage,” he added, and it even sounded wrong to him, although he wasn’t entirely sure why.  But one thing was for certain, he was definitely not taking any more of those damn pills.

“Tony, have you been taking your painkillers?”  Steve enquired, not quite concerned, and somewhat amused and Tony appreciated the sentiment.

“Maybe,” he admitted.

“Not enough or too many?”  Steve asked, in the matter of an over-accommodating housewife, which Tony might have found amusing if he had been in full control of his faculties.

“No, I just… I miss you Steve,” he sighed.  It had taken him months to admit what had been obvious to everyone who had been paying attention.

“…” Steve let out a sigh.

“Seriously, I pour my heart out to you and you sit in silence,” he asked indignantly.  The middle of the night probably wasn’t the time to have this particular conversation, but he doubted that he would want to have it when he was less under the influence.

“That wasn’t pouring your heart out; you’re mildly whacked on painkillers and don’t really know what you’re saying.”  Steve replied, and Tony nodded into the darkness, mentally giving Steve an additional point on his imaginary scoreboard.

“For me that’s just about as good as it gets,” he admitted.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Steve confirmed, and the conversation drifted into an emotionally charged but relatively comfortable silence, before Tony could finally bring himself to reply.

“Yeah… maybe,” he sighed.

“I’ll be around in half an hour,” Steve said after a beat, and hung up the phone.  Tony grinned, and attempted to do his own personal victory dance in bed, although he failed miserably, because when he shifted his back spiked in pain.  Had he been in shape, though, he might well have done handsprings all along his bedroom.

 

**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

 

Two days later, Tony was fairly sure that he was probably fit enough to get out of bed, however, he also knew that he had a least another day before Steve dared to question his fitness.  Since he had arrived at the Avengers tower – soaking wet and completely disheveled – Steve had only left him to get them food and to take a quick shower, and though Tony was loathed to admit it, he found himself really enjoying the company.  Steve had insisted that he stopped taking the pain medication, and while Tony was grateful that the cloud that had fallen around his head had diminished, the dull ache in his back was not at all welcome.  Plus, he was sure that it was only a matter of time before Steve forced him into an inevitable conversation regarding the status of their relationship and Tony was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to like it.

It wasn’t that Tony was in any doubt that he wanted Steve, but he had always found it difficult to express himself well enough to satisfy anyone – Pepper would attest to that.  The comfortable silence into which they had descended was rudely interrupted by JARVIS and tore Tony from his somewhat depressing reverie.

“Sir, I have Mister Storm on the phone, shall I patch him through, or shall I inform him that you are currently indisposed.”  If JARVIS had been a man – or, if he at least had a body – then Tony was fairly sure that he would have raised an eyebrow as he uttered that comment, and at that thought Tony cursed himself (not for the first time) for creating an AI with the capacity for sarcasm.  However, instead of replying, he looked over at Steve for him to make the decision.  The Captain nodded with ease and Tony finally replied.

“Yeah, we can take that call,” he answered, emphasizing the ‘we’ and hoping that Steve took it as a subtle hint of his feelings.

“I’ll put him through then, Sir,” JARVIS replied, coolly.

“Stark, I still wanna know what it’s like to fuck a genius,” Johnny said by way of greeting and Steve rolled his eyes and caused Tony to smile.  Johnny was pretty blatant, Tony would give him that.

“What about Doom?  I’m sure he’d love a piece of your hot ass,” Tony suggested easily, and resisted the urge to let Johnny know that Steve was with him.

“I’m not a fan of all that metal,” Johnny replied, the smile clear in his tone.  The thing Tony liked most about Johnny was the thing that managed to piss most people off – his cock-sure banter.

“And yet you want to sleep with Iron Man,” Tony couldn’t help but query the younger man’s logic.

“No, just Tony Stark – the man with his own patented blowjob,” he laughed slightly, and Tony shot Steve a pained look which silently begged him for his forgiveness.  Steve coughed loudly, making his presence known and Johnny laughed on the other end of the phone.  

“So, you two are back together then?”  Johnny stated, without any trace of disappointment.  “That’s… predictable,” he added, with a small laugh and Tony couldn’t help but smile.

“Go away, Johnny,” Steve said, not altogether harshly.  And, Tony noted, not in any discomfort at the topic of conversation.

“Guess I’m not getting another blowjob then,” Johnny replied, sounding deeply amused.  It was a statement not a question and Steve looked at Tony with a somewhat tired expression that Tony wasn’t entirely sure what to make of, other than to take it as a signal to terminate the call.

“JARVIS,” he instructed, without letting Steve out of his sigh.

“Right you are, Sir,” the AI replied, and terminated the call – which, Tony noted glibly was one of the myriad reasons he had programmed his AI to have a personality.  Steve laughed lowly, as the call disconnected, and the room descended into a comfortable silence once more.  Tony shifted in the bed, so that he could better face Steve, who was lying contentedly next to him.

“I can’t believe you slept with Widow,” Tony said after a long paused, effectively shattering the comfort of their situation.  Admittedly, such inability to silence his thoughts was one of the reasons why Tony tended to screw up every happy moment life threw at him.

“Tony,” Steve sighed long-sufferingly, but without malice.

“Seriously, I’ll put it in 1940’s terms for you…” Tony continued, unable to stop himself once he had started.  “I can’t believe you actually put your penis in her vagina?”

He smirked as Steve’s face heated up and he eyed him in annoyance.

“Yes, I comprehend the mechanism, I understand the terminology, I just don’t understand your obsession,” he replied easily, as though the whole situation was not relevant.  Tony looked at him for a long moment before he replied.

“Do you think she’d be up for a threesome?”  Tony tried again, a smile playing on the edges of his lips.  He was all too aware that they needed to classify what was going on here, and while he didn’t want to discuss the details, he wanted to know whether Steve still wanted him.  Obviously, his brain thought the best way to do that was to suggest a threesome – and God, he had fucked up logic.

“That rather implied that I’d be up for a threesome,” Steve countered, turning his head to look at him, and shattering all of Tony’s illusions.  It must have shown on his face because the Captain rolled his eyes and motioned for Tony to move to rest under his arm.  “Is it really so hard for you to say it?”  He said.  But Tony barely heard him because the previous action was enough to confirm that Steve still wanted to be with him.

“I think so,” Tony admitted, moving to accept Steve’s offer of an embrace and settled to rest his head against the larger man’s broad chest. 

“Tony,” the sound rumbled through his chest and tickled Tony’s ear.

“Believe it or not, I’ve had less auspicious reconciliations,” he answered, and could almost feel Steve rolling his eyes.

“I can believe it,” Steve admitted, but it wasn’t unkind.

“Just so you know, I’ve missed this – us – I mean, I – I like the quietness – but not – I…” Tony rambled on, unable to verbalize what he meant.  The feeling of happiness swelled in his gut and he hoped that Steve understood what he meant to say.

“I love you too, Tony,” Steve murmured, with the kind of quiet sincerity only he could muster and effectively lobotomized Tony, who opened his mouth several times in an attempt to reply.

“Ditto,” he finally choked out.  Steve shifted under him, moving so that he could look down at him and Tony looked up at him, wondering whether he had finally managed to ruin things.

“Quoting a Patrick Swayze movie?  And they think I’m the corny one,” Steve replied, amusing dancing across each syllable and Tony was struck by the pop culture reference.  So much so, in fact, that he lifted his head up from Steve’s chest to get a better look at his partner, and arched a perplexed eyebrow.

“You’ve seen Ghost?”  He asked, incredulously.

“Bruce can’t get enough of it,” Steve shrugged, but the smile that passed across his lips hinted that he saw the amusement value to his statement.

“You know, I have absolutely no trouble believing that,” Tony replied casually, and settled back down to his comfortable position on Steve’s chest.

All in all, Tony felt that, despite his debilitating – if self-inflicted – injury, his week could not have gone much better.


End file.
